The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “What other way is there to be? I’m not worried, Joe. Not at all. Why should I be upset? I didn’t kill her.” She smiled. In her reach for the door, it opened and Frank walked in. “Hi, Frank.”

  “Hey, Jenny. Dad, sorry I’m late.” He handed the folder to Joe.

  Jenny waved and proceeded to leave, stepping aside in her exit for Jess who walked in.

  Jess closed the door and exhaled his nervousness. “Joe, Frank.” He gave a nod to Grace.

  “Have a seat.” Joe indicated to a chair.

  “Thanks.” Jess sat down.

  “Jess,” Joe spoke. “This is informal questioning. Grace is here to make sure we’re fair. If you feel uncomfortable and refuse to answer any questions, you state your objection to her. Got that?”

  “Yes.” He folded his hands and leaned forward slightly. “I’m an open book.”

  “Good. Glad to hear it.” Joe lifted a notebook. “Frank? All yours.”

  “Thanks.” Frank leaned on the edge of the desk. He projected a different air to him, one more serious and focused. “Jess, when would you say your first contact with Bev was in Beginnings?”

  “Hard to say, Frank.” Jess shrugged. “I may or may not have had contact with her when the virus hit. I was helping out. I do remember having contact with her here and there and seeing her in the Social Hall from then on.”

  “Did you ever have any long conversations with her?”

  “No.”

  “Did you talk to her at all in a social capacity?”

  “No,” Jess answered. “I didn’t really bother much with her. Actually, I don’t really bother too much with anyone in Beginnings.” As he answered, he looked at Joe, who was playing the role of transcriptionist.

  And Joe did. In his own version of shorthand, he jotted the question and the answer given. But the whole time, Joe kept looking at Frank. We watched his son’s face, checking it out for signs. Perhaps Frank would show a hint that Jess was the one he saw at Bev’s house. Or Frank would show irritation in wasting time on Jess. But Frank didn’t. His expression was cold.

  “When Danny Hoi and his little mystery buster gang discovered Bev’s antics . . .” Frank continued. “He said they called everyone she affected. Why were you there?”

  “I was at Ellen’s when Henry came over and busted the wall. We all went together. Me, El, Robbie, and Elliott.”

  “So you attended the meeting because you happened to be there when the invitation was given?”

  “Yes,” Jess replied.

  “There’s talk she was blackmailing you. That wasn’t the reason you were at the meeting?” Frank asked.

  “I told you, Frank. I went because I was around. But if you want the truth, yeah, she was blackmailing me or trying to.” Jess reached into his back pocket and handed Frank the note. “Here. This is the one she left me. You’ll see this matches word for word what was on that typewriter ribbon.”

  Frank read it and passed it to Joe.

  After reviewing the words, Joe glanced up at Jess. “This is pretty incriminating. It implies . . .”

  “That I’m a traitor, yes,” Jess answered. “She had it in her mind that I defected on purpose.” He shrugged. “Like it was a set up by the Society. It was one of her games, I guess. It really sounded plausible and the thought of defending myself against her allegations frightened me.”

  “Is that why you didn’t come forward with the note?” Joe asked.

  “Yes. With all that was going down with Andrea, it seemed Beginnings was out for blood with insiders. Joe, I didn’t want to even take a chance of you thinking I was a traitor. I just thought I’d let her play her games and she tire of them.”

  “Or die,” Frank said. “O.K. What I need for you to do is write me a statement. I want hour by hour details of what you did that night from the meeting on. Got that?”

  “Yes. When do you need it?” Jess asked.

  “As soon as you can give it to me.”

  “You’ll have it tomorrow. Will that be all?” Jess started to stand up.

  “Yeah,” Frank nodded. “That’s it.”

  “Thanks.” Jess walked to the door. “If you need anything else, let me know.”

  Joe smiled with a wave and waited for him to leave. “All right. I wrote down questions and answers. You plan on rephrasing them?”

  “Yeah, after he has a couple . . .”

  “Frank.”Joe stopped him and gave a motion point of his head to the door that opened.

  Pale, drawn out, and seemingly out of breath, Dan the security guy entered. “Do you . . . Do you guys have a second?”

  “Sure.” Joe answered. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, Joe.” Dan grabbed his chest. “This has me so upset.” He sat down. “I hate to do this. I may be wrong, but it’s something you guys should look into.”

  “What’s that?” Frank asked.

  “It has to deal with Bev’s murder,” Dan replied. “I believe there’s someone that you have to talk to. They know something.”

  Joe and Frank looked at each other.

  ^^^^

  “Getting situated . . .” Dean stood in an explaining mode before Ellen in the Clinic lab. “You take care of these results. I do John’s quick exam and head down to the cryo-lab again. Stop that.”

  “What?” Ellen held back her giggle.

  “Looking at me like that. You do that on purpose.”

  “I can’t help it, Dean. You look so . . . relieved?”

  “Bye.” He kissed her on the cheek and walked across the lab.

  “Dean, what do you think of when you . . .”

  “Bye.” Dean lifted his hand as he walked out. He ignored her laughing and proceeded to the examining room where John was waiting. “Sorry. I had to talk to Ellen.”

  “No problem.” John sat on the examining table.

  “So, you walked here?” Dean opened his chart.

  “Yes. My legs held up fine.”

  “Any weakness?”

  “Just a little, but nothing I can’t deal with. I don’t think I can run a marathon.”

  “No, not yet.” Dean wrote in the chart. “Any other complaints?”

  “None. I want to get back to work in Mechanics though. Henry won’t let me until you give me a note.”

  “I’ll do that if you’re up to it, but on a limited schedule,” Dean said. “I’m kind of busy right now. Can you get it tomorrow before you head up to Mechanics?”

  “Sure thing.” John slid form the table.

  “Good.” Tucking the chart under his arm, Dean moved to the door. “Oh, John. El, told me about Jenny’s pregnancy. Can you pass along to her that she needs to stop by and schedule an appointment with me, El, or Jason. I can’t find any record of her being seen for it and if she’s as far along as she is, she should be checked.”

  “I can do that. I want the best for the . . .” A bright thought hit John. An opportunity doorway was open about the same time Dean opened the exam room door. “. . . baby. Dean?”

  “Yeah.” Dean halted in his exit.

  “Um . . . Jenny, she uh . . .” John saddened his voice. “She told me about all that went down with Bev and the baby situation. I bet that was tough.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you ever wonder . . .” John grunted. Dean had left. Shaking his head he finished his sentence as he stood alone. “Ever wonder who the baby’s father was?”

  ^^^^

  The beeping of the computer indicating her results were finished sounded off and Ellen went to retrieve them. Viewing the monitor, she tossed her hands up in the air. “I told you, Dean.” She spoke to herself. “I told you.” Sitting down, she flipped open a folder. “I said it was too soon. You said it wasn’t. Now look, the sample was too overrun with our treatment to get a viable result.”

  Pencil moving down the folder, Ellen stopped when she looked at the name.

  Elliott Ryder.

  How painful the name was to her. His results were what she worked o and his results
were all she knew of him, them and the info placed in the thick folder before her. She brought the pencil to her mouth in angry thought, thinking of the day before when she returned home from work to see the bedroom door open. The first thing that raced through her mind was Elliott was feeling better. The door was open, an invitation given for her to care for him. But when she walked in there, the room was empty. The bed made and the medical equipment packed up. Elliott’s bag was gone. Where was he? Fear struck her that he had passed away and Dean didn’t know how to tell her. She was frightened until Patrick emerged from the bathroom.

  “Oh, hi, Ellen.” He was drying his hands. “It’s all cleaned up in there. Thought I’d be nice.”

  “Patrick? Where’s Elliott?”

  “You don’t know?” Patrick asked. “He’s at Jess and Robbie’s. He had his treatment and decided to go there. He’s doing better. Dean said if he improves, he can commute for the final four. But then again you know this.”

  Ellen didn’t. She hadn’t spoken to Dean for an Elliott update on that day and she never did. After that, Ellen asked no questions.

  Returning to registering Elliot’s results, Ellen paused when she heard the soft clearing of a throat. In her swivel chair she turned around. “Elliott.”

  He smiled slightly, looked thinner, but he wore his full UWA uniform. “I was here for a treatment.”

  “Oh.” Ellen returned to the computer. She spoke as she wrote the results. “I’ll be sure to leave this folder out so I don’t have to dig it out when Dean or Patrick give me the work up on it.”

  “It went well.”

  “Good.”

  After setting his bandana on the counter, Elliott stepped closer. “I feel a hundred percent better.”

  “Good.” Ellen closed the folder and stood up. “But honestly Elliott, if you’re giving a medical update, you should give it to your doctor and Dean can note it in your chart.”

  Elliott was bit confused. “You’re my doctor.”

  “Not anymore,” Ellen said. “Not your personal doctor. If you need medical attention and no one else is available . . .” She shrugged. “I guess I’m it. But for ongoing care . . . no.”

  “When . . . when did you stop being my doctor?”

  “When you took your first treatment.”

  Elliott smiled and took the demeanor as if he was about to set the record straight. “Ellen, then you misunderstood. I didn’t mean for you not to be my doctor. I just meant for you not to be there during those treatments.”

  “And from that moment on, I ceased being your doctor.”

  “For the duration of the treatments.”

  “No, Elliott. Forever.”

  “I didn’t make that choice.”

  “I did.” Ellen set the folder in the bin and started to leave.

  “You’re angry.”

  Ellen froze. Every part of her stopped moving except for her head which moved slowly in a cold stare to Elliott.

  Elliott stepped to her. “You’re angry about me shutting you out.”

  “Well aren’t you the budding fucking Einstein today?”

  “You are.”

  Ellen gasped. “And this shocks you!”

  “Yes.”

  Turning fully to face him, Ellen’s anger projected in her face, movements, and voice. “Why? Don’t you think I should be?”

  “To be honest. No.” Elliott spoke shocked. “Maybe I was wrong but . . .”

  “You’re damn right, you were wrong.”

  “But look at why I did it. Please. I was ill. So ill. And my pride . . .”

  “Fuck your pride.”

  “Ellen.”

  “No!” Her voice rose. “Fuck your pride. You hear me. There are times we let our pride get in the way and there are times we don’t. What you went through was one of those times. Did it ever occur to you that I not only wanted to be with you, but needed to be with you? I needed to know you were all right. That may sound selfish of me, but tough. I am selfish.”

  “Dean was giving you updates.”

  “And that makes it all right? No! Dean’s eyes are not mine! You shut me out without any regard to how I felt, how I would react, and you shut me out as if you couldn’t care less about me.”

  “No,” Elliott spoke with pleading defense. “I shut you out because I care so much about you. I didn’t want you to see me like that. I made that choice. I’m sorry hurt you. I really am. I didn’t think.” He shook his head. “I just didn’t think.”

  “Well, I did. I did a lot of thinking over these past four days. A lot. When you closed that door on me, Elliott, you closed the door on a lot of other things as well.”

  “I . . . I don’t understand. This has to be with you not being my doctor?”

  “It has to do with everything. Everything. Physician, friend . . . everything,” Ellen explained. “Like everyone else, my life has been tough. It took a lot of years to get it together and I went through a lot of shit. I lost a lot. I felt a lot of pain. And you know what, Elliott?” she spoke calmly. Her attitude seemed as if she lacked any anger at all. “I’m happy now. Thinking about it, finally, in my life, I am happy again. I never thought I’d get here.” She placed on a slight smile. “My kids are healthy, thank God. The thing with Dean is over. He’s back home, we’re working through things. And Frank. Frank is back in my life as well. But, I wanted to make room for someone else. Forget one or both of them, for this one special person. I would have. Then I started thinking . . . why?” Ellen tilted her head. “Why would I want to make room in my life, when I am only making space for hurt? I don’t want to do that. There’s no room in my life for hurt.” Slowly she looked up to him. “And there’s no room in my life . . . for you.”

  Ellen’s words made Elliott speechless and her exit from the lab at that moment caused him to close his eyes softly in pain. He stood briefly then grabbed his bandana from the counter and walked across the lab. In the doorway, he stopped with a stare. After clearing his throat, and regaining his composure, Elliott stood tall with an emotionless look on his face With a pivot turn, he walked in a military stride from the Clinic.

  ^^^^

  ‘Someone knows something’ Joe and Frank were told. ‘You should talk to him’ was the advice given. Something, probably excitement, stirred in Joe when he saw the distress on Dan the Security man’s face. With a little enthusiasm, and not wanting to alarm the person, Dan was referring to, Joe asked Dan to bring them to his office.

  Perhaps Joe should have asked who it was first, but he didn’t. All he knew was that the person said something in front of Dan about Bev’s murder.

  “Dad,” Frank whispered in the examining room adjacent to Joe’s office. “This is stupid.”

  “Why is that? Huh, Frank? Why is this stupid?”

  “Because it is. Look who Dan brought up.”

  “Afraid maybe . . . afraid maybe he knows what you know?”

  “What?” Frank laughed. “What are you talking about?”

  “The person you saw that night you went back in time.”

  “I told you I didn’t see anyone. We missed the window. Now are we gonna do this or not?”

  “Absolutely. It’s well worth a shot. Maybe he does know something.” Joe smiled positive that the brand new witness bred fear in Frank. Against his better judgment, Joe smiled, walked to his desk, and sat down. “So.” He leaned back in his chair.

  “So.” Richie gave a twitch to his head and rubbed his chin on his shoulder.

  “Dan says . . .”

  “Did you get a picture of me? I took pictures.”

  “Yes, I did, Richie,” Joe spoke pacifying. “Richie. Dan says you heard . . .”

  “I hear everything, Joe. Yeah,” Richie spoke upbeat. “Everything. People. People talk.” He nodded. “They talk by me. They think I don’t hear. They think I don’t know. I know. I hear. I know. They think I’m dumb.”

  “Well . . .” Joe winced a little. “They have good reason to think that.” He held up his hand. “N
ot that you are mind you, but you kind of project that.”

  “Too bad. I’m bright.” Richie patted his hair down.

  “Richie,” Frank spoke up. “Do you know something about Bev?”

  “Yes.” Richie nodded then shook his head. “Oh, yes. Yes, I know.”

  “What do you know?” Frank asked.

  “Bev’s dead.”

  Frank nodded and looked at Joe. “There you have it. Richie does know something.”

  “Richie . . .” Joe took a shot. “Dan, you know Dan, right?”

  “Which Dan? I know two.” Richie held up three fingers. “There’s Dan, Danny the hair Dan. And Dan. Dan, the Security man.”

  “That’s the one.” Joe pointed. “Well, Dan the Security man said you may know something about Bev’s murder.”

  “I do. Yes.” Richie nodded. “I hear people talk.”

  Frank decided to ask. “Did you hear people talk about Bev’s murder?”

  “Yep.” He nodded. “All the time.”

  “Who do you hear talk about Bev’s murder” Frank questioned.

  “Who do you want to know?” Richie asked.

  “Who did you hear talk?”

  “Who do you want to know?”

  “Who did you hear talk?”

  “Enough.” Joe stopped them before they ping-ponged back and forth too much. “Richie, tell us everyone you heard talk about Bev’s murder.”

  “Let’s see.” Richie put his finger to his lip. “Dan, hair Dan. He talks about it. Ellen, Ellen talks about it. Dan talks to Ellen. Robbie, he talks. Then Robbie talks to Ellen. Robbie talks to Dan. Dan with the hair, Dan. Not Dan Security Dan. Yeah. But Dan doesn’t talk to Jess. But Jess talks about it. Jess talks to Ellen. Jess talks to Robbie. But not hair Dan. Henry. Henry talks to Jess.” Richie tried to whistle but only blew out air. “Oh, boy. Does Henry talk. He talks a lot. He talks the most. Cries Joe. Cries.”

  “He cries?” Joe questioned with some disbelief.

  “Yep. When he talks. Or whines. Yeah. Whines.”

  “What does Henry say?” Joe asked.

  Calmly, Richie brought this finger to his lip. “He killed Bev.”